Tragic Symphony
by Omega1
Summary: Spike and the gang track down a man worth 18 million woolongs, but soon discover there's more to it that a simple bounty chase.
1. First Movement

1 TRAGIC SYMPHONY  
  
A Cowboy Bebop fanfic by Michael Fitz-Gibbon  
  
FIRST MOVEMENT  
  
Restless.  
  
That's what she was that day, restless. She usually could find one thing or another to do, but this day was different. It frustrated her. Beautiful women weren't supposed to be bored, were they? Maybe she wasn't as attractive as she assumed. This thought was shaken off as surely as the water now sprinkling on her legs off of the data dog Ein, who just had a flea bath. Jet must have been bored that day too, she figured. She could go to sleep, but it was hard to get to sleep because Edward seemed more hyper than usual that day. If she tried to sleep, the weird girl would just wake her up with some random rants and a dance. She considered teasing Spike about something, but didn't feel quite up to it. She was sure that the green-haired man was busy washing Swordfish II, and probably wouldn't even pay attention to her. As usual. Why weren't their any bounties she could go after?! Maybe there were, she hadn't checked that day, and was too lazy to. Faye Valentine was bored, and she just sat lazily around waiting for something to fall into her lap.  
  
"Isn't 'Big Shots' coming on pretty soon?" she asked nobody in particular.  
  
No answer. Ed sprang by a second later with something about talking clocks and rabbits with pocket watches. Faye rolled her eyes and waited for an answer to her question, still as complacent as she was seconds earlier. It didn't matter if the show was coming on soon, she didn't really feel like going after any bounties, either. Not unless their bounty was a substantial amount. She didn't really know what she wanted to do, she was just there, as lonely in the group as ever. She remembered what somebody told her, though. She was just afraid of them, afraid of abandonment. It didn't make sense then, and it still didn't make sense. She sighed and turned her head over to where Jet emerged from the kitchen. What was he up to? Last time she checked, they ran out of the shitake mushrooms that Ed had foolishly taken instead of a bounty. Jet started toward the computer that served as a television, holding a box of something in one arm. He sat down on a chair and activated the computer/TV. Big Shots was indeed on. Faye didn't know if Jet had actually heard her, but it didn't really matter, as she really didn't feel like chasing bounties.  
  
"Howdy, and welcome to another episode of 'Big Shots', for bounty hunters!" the young blonde woman with the revealing clothes and large breasts greeted.  
  
"It's time for today's 'Hot News'!" the tall dark man with the cowboy hat announced.  
  
The picture of a medium-sized, middle-aged man with brown hair and a nervous look appeared with statistics on the screen. The cowboy-dressed man began to explain that the bounty head's name was Gill Whitman, accused of killing his wife and kidnapping their twelve year old daughter Christine. Faye's eyes shifted to Jet who sighed. Jet usually didn't have much of a reaction to the bounty heads' crimes, but was visibly disturbed by the man accused of killing and kidnapping. Maybe it reminded him of a case he worked on while with ISSP. She didn't want to force herself into the movement of such ideas into questions. Not that day, she was just too lazy. Ed pranced by and commented on the "bad bad man". Ein barked, signaling Spike's entrance into the room. He sat down on the other couch, and leaned forward to register Mr. Whitman's face into his memory. Faye guessed that he might be interested in finding the man. Inevitably, the size of the bounty reward was read. Twelve million woolong. A hefty reward, ultimately worthy of Faye's attention. She leaned forward and turned her head toward the monitor. She might be interesting in going after a bounty after all. Spike wasn't bothered by the crime the man was being accused of, it didn't matter to him much. He had gone after criminals accused of all sorts of things, and none of their crimes shocked him. Come to think of it, she was the same way. It was money, and money was money was money. Faye wondered if the bounty was for the retrieval of the man, or the man and the girl. Was the bounty for both, or would there be another reward for securing the girl? Faye waited for more information.  
  
"Wait Punch," the blonde woman Judy said with her hand in the air, "shouldn't there be a bounty for returning the girl?"  
  
"That's a good question," Punch replied. "As some of you buckaroos may have figured, the kidnapping charge still stands as he still has that girl with him. Therefore, an additional six million woolong will be added if you return her safe and sound."  
  
"Wow, that's 18 million all together!" exclaimed Judy, being almost believable.  
  
"Well, I'd say it's about right," commented Punch. "That man is bad news, he's been known to violent fits of rage and even child abuse! That girl shouldn't be near that mean ombre."  
  
"That's right!" exclaimed Judy.  
  
Eighteen million woolongs. Spike's face lit up with a smile that obviously meant his accepting the challenge of catching Whitman. Faye was able to retrieve her body from its lethargic state and become the slightest bit excited. Jet was surprised as well, but didn't light up at all. Spike and Faye didn't notice. Ein barked, and Ed danced around shouting something about the size of the reward. The money would be able to buy plenty of supplies, including much-needed food. The ebullient Ed noticed how Jet was brooding, and made it her goal to cheer him up.  
  
"Jetty Jet Jet Jetty Jetty Jet!! Shoooom in the sky you go, you jet! Go go go!" she rambled, twirling herself about one moment, and then jumping onto the table and spreading her arms out like she were a plane, giggling.  
  
"Ed, get off the table," Spike said. "We're trying to watch 'Big Shots', okay?"  
  
Ed complied, noticing how Jet's expression didn't change. She danced around behind him for a bit. Spike and Faye didn't hear a word from him, and usually if he had reserves about a bounty head he would express them right up front. Faye went back to thinking that it may have reminded him of a case he once worked on. Spike was reserved to thinking he just didn't like the set up. He often felt that way about some bounties himself. He smiled, and spoke to ease the tension.  
  
"So Jet, what do you think? Eighteen million woolongs will by some more bonzai plants for ya," he said.  
  
"Yeah, maybe," Jet mumbled.  
  
"What's wrong, Jet?" Faye asked. "If you're scared of the big bad wife killer, we can hide you hear under a blanket and give you some formula."  
  
"Shut up, Faye," Spike shot at the sarcastic woman. "Jet, what's wrong?"  
  
"I don't like it, that's all," Jet replied. "I'd hate to get involved with this and have something happen to that child."  
  
"Yeah, well that would really suck, but if we do get involved we can make sure she's safe," Faye proposed. "Doesn't that sound better?"  
  
"I didn't know you liked children, Jet. You have soft spots for animals and kids, huh?" Spike said.  
  
"Edward isn't a kid," Ed said matter-of-factly, and as usual, in the third person. "Ed is a yooooooung wooooman!"  
  
"Quiet Ed," said Spike. "So, are we going to do this or what?"  
  
"Eighteen million, huh?" Jet said with a smile. "We could sure use that money."  
  
"No more musshhroooms!" Ed sang, dancing around. "Maybe some pizza!"  
  
"I could go for some beef and bell peppers," said Spike with a rumbling stomach. "We could buy plenty of food with the money from this guy."  
  
"There is one thing we should be concerned about, though," Faye commented. When Spike and Jet where all ears, she continued. "There will probably be plenty of other bounty hunters after this guy, ya know? I mean, if we run into some competition there might be trouble. So…"  
  
"So, we'll have to work on this together, all the way," Spike finished Faye's sentence. "Yeah, we'll split everything three ways."  
  
"Four ways!" sang Ed, twirling Ein around by his paws. The dog barked. "Five ways!" the girl corrected.  
  
"Um… right," said Spike. "Well, four ways anyway."  
  
"This means no withholding information from each other," Jet proclaimed. "We all have to participate equally, and share information as well. If we run into other bounty hunters, we need to try to avoid over agression. This means no massacring those that aren't wanted criminals."  
  
"Hey, I can handle all that," said Spike. "What about you, Faye?"  
  
"Please," she rolled her eyes. "Of course I can handle it. And when we find this guy and his daughter we split the reward no matter what. Hm, I already know what I'm going to do with my share of the reward."  
  
"Gamble it away, no doubt," Spike guessed.  
  
Faye opened her mouth to say something, but it would be futile. Of course she was going to hit the casinos. Gambling appealed to her, though she rarely won at it. Oh sure, she'd win a few games here and there, but she always ended up overdoing it and losing all her money. This time she would try a little harder, be a little luckier. She promised herself this time. Unfortunately, she had done that many times before, and the promise seemed forced and weary. Recovering from her indifference, Faye stood up and stretched, careful to notice whether or not the men where staring at her. They were glued to the television set, waiting for more details, but 'Big Shots' was temporarily away for commercial break. God, where could a woman's body be appreciated around here? Well Spike's "Julia" kept him dreaming, and Jet was more of a parental figure than a choice for a mate. He was married to his work, and she had a inkling it probably wouldn't work out between them. Add to that, she wasn't particularly attracted to him. The other two members beside her were an enigma of a dog and an even more of an enigma… Ed. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Trivusky IV. Faye was curious about the girl, she seemed nothing like a girl her age would be. Faye first chalked it up to her being from Earth, but now she wasn't so sure why Ed was the way she was. At the current moment, it wasn't the most important thing on her mind. She sat back down and looked back at Spike and Jet, still staring attentivly and the screen. The show came back on, and Punch began to speak about some of the details in the case. Things were vague, so it was clear they were going to be investigating heavily for a while. After the show was over, they sat around, not moving an inch. The television went on to another program, and nobody made the move to switch it off. Ed danced around until she came to the group and sat down on the floor in front of the monitior. She changed the channel to a space action show. Spike got up first, then Jet. Faye sat around for a few more seconds taking in everything. She hadn't fully recovered from her laziness.  
  
"This should be interesting," said Spike. "Well, let's get started."  
  
  
  
---^^^---  
  
The air smelled of sulfer and gasoliine. He looked behind himself every few seconds to make sure she was behind him. He couldn't lose her, couldn't lose the only thing he had left. The Martian atmosphere was thick that day and there was fog in the streets. They wove in and out and turned and kept, and lingered. All the days, all the nights since it occurred were a frantic search of safety, and he was sure they were being followed closely. It was only a matter of time, and his mind was riddled with too many thoughts to think clearly. He had to, for her sake. Christine smiled at him, but he knew her fears and doubts. He could hear the slight whimpers and lulls in her speech, the hesitation in her step. Was she betraying him, her own father? The suspicion clung to him like an infant to its mother's breast. This very analogy was very apparent to him, and he knew she missed the warmth of her mother. In all the rush, they rarely had time to mourn. Maybe he shouldn't have tackled that man to the ground, or shot at him, but it was too late to reverse time. He was running for his life, an innocent man charged with something he never did, something he never could have done. Looking once more at his daughter, Gill realized that at the moment only he and Christine knew that for sure, and though she witnessed the events that occurred to cause their hell, her faith may falter anyway. He wouldn't, couldn't blame her.  
  
"Don't worry, sweetie," he assured her. "We'll find somewhere safe to stay. Things will get worked out, too, you'll see. They will."  
  
Inside he cursed himself for that promise. What could he do? One day her mother was there, the next day she was gunned down right in front of her. They wouldn't believe her, though. It was him they blamed for the murder, not the man in the park. They said he coached her into an explanation, that he threatened to kill her. The fingerprints on the gun and his wife's blood on him where all the proof they needed to call him a killer. To the ISSP, he murdered his wife. Presumed guilty before proven innocent, the way things really worked. It was over before it began. If he couldn't find some way to prove his innocence, he would imprisoned for life or get the death penalty, and either way Christine would be robbed of both her parents out of the entire mess. He looked back at her again, and she forced a smile, but it disappeared as quickly as the light into the fog. They continued on their wasy, failing to realize just how many people were trying to find them. The Bebop crew would follow next.  
  
END OF FIRST MOVEMENT 


	2. Second Movement

1 SECOND MOVEMENT  
  
  
  
The Swordfish II speed craft was a MONO (Machine Operation Navigation of Outer space) racer in its beginning days. A man named Doohan built and raced it, and it became famous. When Spike first met Doohan, he was still in the syndicate. It was seven years ago, the first time he needed to get it overhauled. He had only had it for three years, and hadn't needed repairing until he was in a battle with a rival group, the Blue Snake. The Swordfish had a nuclear engine, and the booster nozzle a short-range impulse drive. Machine guns were mounted on the wings and there was a large beam cannon in front. Its color was pink. Spike had once tried to paint it on the advice of his old comrade Vicious (who teased him about its color), but Doohan threw a fit and refused to work on the speedster until Spike returned it to pink. Spike really didn't mind the color, just as long as the machine worked.  
  
Spike sat on the cockpit seat, leaning forward and clutching it's control handles. The hanger door was opening, and Spike would be the first out. Jet would follow in the Hammerhead.  
  
Hammerhead was a MONO boat, remodeled to make it more powerful. Jet purchased it shortly after the Bebop, which itself was an old fishing transport. Spike hoped Faye was getting prepared to launch in the Redtail, her own speed craft. Spike turned on the communication link, so that he could talk to Jet. According to reports he picked up on his scanner, Gill Whitman was last seen in Torrent City. It was conveniently near Aruba City, which is where the Bebop was docked.  
  
"Jet, we're in luck," Spike announced. "Torrent City."  
  
"Torrent City, huh? So, at least we don't have far to travel. It will really cut down on expenses," Jet said.  
  
"Yeah," Spike agreed. "Hey, is Faye getting ready?"  
  
  
  
Faye Valentine slowly entered the hanger, walking over to the Redtail and climbing in. The Redtail was a monument in Faye's gambling career. The only thing she ever won that she didn't immediately lose. It was technically a MONO carrier, a small multi-purpose craft. In its basic configuration it's armed with machine guns and rocket launchers. She sat down and activated the two triple-geared engines. Then she flipped a switch that activated its navigation and radio functions. She turned on the communication link and waited for Spike to take off. When he did, she realized that she needed to know where they were headed.  
  
"Hey, where is this guy going to be?" Faye asked.  
  
"If you got ready a little faster, you would have already known," Jet said.  
  
"Well it's not like we're not going to the same place," Faye remarked.  
  
"He was last seen in Torrent," Spike said, already well on his way.  
  
"We should split up," Jet suggested, preparing to launch, "cover different areas."  
  
"Well, I guess I'll go ask around," Faye said.  
  
"I'll go to the crime scene," Jet said. "I'm sure there's something around there that could be of some use. If not, I'll try to find some family or friends to question. Spike, where will you be? Gonna go ask Bull if he can sense him?"  
  
"Not this time, Bull's on T.J. for a month or so," Spike replied. "I do have a contact in Torrent that might be useful. This guy's another bounty hunter that worked with me in another life. I guess I could get some help, I've got a few hundred woolongs on me I can spend to know what he knows."  
  
"Okay, but try to distance yourself from him," Jet said, "this is our bounty head."  
  
"Don't worry," Spike assured his partner. "Nothing's going to take those eighteen million woolongs away from me."  
  
"Ahem, from us," Faye reminded him. "Six million woolongs each, that's pretty fair."  
  
"What about Edward?" Ed commented from the control room of the ship.  
  
Spike smiled. "We'll bring you back a souvenir."  
  
"Alright," Edward said, "make it something good!"  
  
  
  
---^^^---  
  
Spike Spiegel was twenty-seven years old, a native of Mars, and once a member of the crime syndicate the Red Dragon. His father was in it once, and was killed in a shootout over a territory dispute. A year later, Spike's mother disappeared. That same year, Mao Yenrei inducted Spike into the group. His first full year in the organization, Spike was paired up with a young man named Morrison Tinwheel. They worked in Torrent, which was pretty far from Red Dragon headquarters in Tharsis. The syndicate had them make sure that its drug inventory was protected. They were armed to the teeth for this, and soon Spike became attached to his Jericho 941. He always preferred hand-to-hand combat, though. His style of fighting was Jeet Kune Do. Morrison preferred the uzi to the fist, though. They were on assignment breaking up a dispute between the street thugs selling the drugs they were protecting and the sellers, a business deal turned into a gunfight, when Morrison was shot several times. He lost his leg and had to get a replacement limb. The syndicate let him leave, and he became a bounty hunter, but he never once took a bounty if it were a member of the Red Dragon. He wasn't stupid. Spike was jealous of him for one reason; he left the syndicate easily. Morrison didn't have to fake his death.  
  
Morrison was a tall, blonde man with an arrogant look to him. He had a tattoo of a red dragon on one arm, and a tattoo of a black dragon on the other. On this particular day, he wore a green muscle shirt and brown shorts, and was smoking a cigarette as he sat down and listened to Spike. His apartment was on the top floor of a relatively old building. His kitchen reminded Spike of the Bebop. Spike explained that he was after the bounty on Gil Whitman's head. Predictably, Morrison smirked and said that he too was on the trail of Whitney. Information that didn't come cheap (eight thousand woolongs), and it probably wasn't going to be specific. After all, they were rivals for this bounty.  
  
"The only reason why I'm sharing any information with you is because we're old buddies," Tinwheel reminded Spike. "This is information that not many people know. It's lucky that I'm living in the perfect place for bounty hunting. This part of Torrent is filled with fugitives, some stay here when the ISSP stops looking. I doubt they're gonna let this wife killer go, though. Good thing, I can really use eighteen million woolongs."  
  
"Couldn't we all?" Spike asked rhetorically.  
  
"Anyway," Morrison continued, "the man and his daughter have been spotted around Bird Park. This means that they're probably on the east side, near Luxingburg Street."  
  
"So that's it, huh?" Spike asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"Anything more would cost you eighteen million woolongs. Not like you'll be collecting on that anyway," Morrison remarked confidently. "Anyway, how's life treating you, Mr. Hotshot Bounty Hunter? You're not exactly keeping a low profile for a guy the syndicate is after."  
  
"The syndicate isn't after me," Spike corrected Morrison. "Vicious is."  
  
"That's much worse," Morrison commented.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Definitely. Remind me, what do you to make him go psychotic?"  
  
"Heh, he was already psychotic. I just fell in love with his girlfriend."  
  
"Julia?"  
  
Julia. That name was so cruel to Spike Spiegel. The feelings flooded back into his conscious. It always confused him, because he never believed those events really happened, not until it was brought up again. Seeing Julia at the bar during a game of pool, meeting with her when Vicious had gone to fight in the Titan War. Holding her, kissing her, changing his prospective. He was afraid to die, a weakness Vicious despised. The man realized the betrayal, and tried to have Spike killed. Spike "died" the day at the graveyard, when Julia never showed up. They were going to leave Mars together, leave Vicious and memories of the syndicate behind them. Instead Spike had to leave his life in that place, and drift into the dream he was now living. He would always remember her, though. Julia.  
  
"Yeah," Spike confirmed, "Julia."  
  
"I left a bit easier than you did, Spiegel. I kinda feel bad about it, but then you didn't lose your leg."  
  
"I lost my eye," Spike said, pointing to his slightly off red eye. "I see the past in this one."  
  
"And the present in the other?" Morrison guessed.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Where's the future?"  
  
"I have none," Spike said with an awful, sad sort of smile, and letting some kind of laugh exit his mouth.  
  
"You scare me sometimes, Spike."  
  
"I scare myself sometimes, Tinwheel," Spike said, rising from his seat. "Anyway, I guess I should hurry before it's too late. Or is it already?"  
  
"I'll be out there in an hour or so, Spike. Don't count on finding those two before me, but good luck nonetheless," Tinwheel said.  
  
"Thanks," Spike said, as he headed out the door. "Don't forget that I'm only the owner of 6 million woolongs. I have a team on this."  
  
  
  
---^^^---  
  
  
  
Many words or phrases could describe Jet Black. He was a thirty-five year old ex-ISSP agent, the man once referred to as "The Black Dog" because whenever he bit, he'd never let go. His beat was Ganymede, and that's where he worked for many years, until he lost his arm in a syndicate set-up. His own partner betrayed him, something he would just come to discover a week before this day. Between losing his arm and the disappearance of his live- in girlfriend Alisa, he was tired of it all. He quit the ISSP and became a bounty hunter, buying the Bebop for about the price of on Gil Whitman's head. Luckily for Jet, a word you could use to describe him is connected. Everybody seemed to owe him one.  
  
Today found him waiting outside the Berkely Café, across the street from the crime scene, Aruba City's biggest recreational park. He contacted a detective he met a while back that worked the beat, and probably knew something about Gil Whitman. It would be interesting to get another person's input as he was scanning the area of the murder. Perhaps then he could talk to any friends or relatives of the victim. Jun Yumizaki was running a bit late, but Jet seemed comfortable. It was damp and chilly, but Jet enjoyed the morning air. Soon the detective could be seen from afar, and Jet waved. The man picked up the pace, reaching Jet in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," Yumizaki apologized. "I am working this case, you know. I need to be in Torrent in a couple of hours."  
  
"Really? Well, then I guess you're not going to give me any tips on catching this guy," Jet lamented in a joking manner.  
  
"I never said I was that into my work," Yumizaki said with a smile. "Come on, let's get something to eat."  
  
"Good idea," Jet said.  
  
The café was considerably clean. Jet and Jun sat down at the booth nearest to the doors, both one either side of the table. Jet picked up a small menu and scanned it. There wasn't much on there that he fancied. French toast was all right, but restaurants never made it right. He couldn't have eggs for medical reasons, and pancakes just didn't suit his mood that day. He could just have a cinnamon roll or a muffin. Jun ordered a couple of doughnuts. Jet said he just wanted a cup of coffee.  
  
"Doughnuts? Don't you think you're just enforcing the stereotype?" Jet asked.  
  
"What? I just like doughnuts, that's all," Yumizaki defended. "Aren't you going to eat something?"  
  
"I'm not that hungry," Jet admitted. "There something you can tell me about Whitman?"  
  
"Yeah," Yumizaki confirmed. "Gill is an executive for Pippu Cola. His wife Kate was an assistant for a powerful medical company, the kind that makes all kinds of medicines, Halion. We've heard from family and friends that their marriage was on the rocks, and sometimes Gill would have violent fits, a condition only calmed by his medication. He stopped taking the stuff when he thought he had no more need for it. Everything was looking up after a few months of couple counseling. The day in question, Whitney took his wife and kid to the park. As far as we could tell there was some kind of argument and he shot her after a struggle. His fingerprints are on the weapon, and it was fired three or four times, though Kate was shot twice. We think the daughter tried to stop him. When we initially questioned Gill, he claimed that a man came into the park and attacked his wife when he was getting food for them. He heard the screams and came to help, but she was already wounded. He claimed to have wrestled the gun out of the man's hand and shot him before he ran off. Nobody in the area saw the man he described."  
  
"It's pretty clear-cut then, huh?" Jet asked.  
  
"Seems so," Yumizaki responded.  
  
"So, it'd be fine for me to look around the crime scene, wouldn't it?" Jet asked.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just have a strange feeling about this."  
  
"Sure, I guess you could. Hey, don't you have some kind of team? Where are the others?"  
  
"Torrent."  
  
"Ah," Yumizaki said with nod, "actively pursuing the bounty?"  
  
"Something like that, yeah," Jet replied.  
  
The waitress appeared and set down a plate in front of Jun, with his doughnuts. She placed a cup of coffee in front of both him and Jet. Jun thanked the waitress and winked, noticing her shapely form. Jet rolled his eyes, but smiled at the waitress as well. He was only human, after all. Jun picked up a baked good from his plate and presented it to Jet.  
  
"Doughnut, Jet?" he offered.  
  
Jet laughed. "Sure."  
  
  
  
END OF SECOND MOVEMENT 


	3. Third Movement

THIRD MOVEMENT  
  
Edward knelt over TOMATO's keyboard and began rapidly typing. Her mind was so focused on her task, she didn't notice the ringing in the background, signaling a call from one of her comrades. Ein barked and nudged the girl until she turned and smiled. After getting to her feet, Ed danced over to the multipurpose PC the crew often used for a television and pressed a button. Faye appeared in a small video window, an irate look on her face. Edward smiled brightly and greeted the woman.  
  
"Hi hi, Faye-Faye!"  
  
"Damn it Ed, what the hell took you so long?!" Faye demanded.  
  
"Ed was doing a hacking exercise-cise," Ed replied. "Very very importante, importante, seniorita!"  
  
"Stop fooling around, I need your help."  
  
"Whatzit? Okey dokey!"  
  
"Okay," Faye began, "first I need you to run a check on Gill Whitman to see if he has any previous charges on his record. "I've been asking around and he seems pretty clean, but I want to make sure. Then I need you to get information on his wife, her job at the medical lab, her office hours. While your at it, you should run a check on that company, too. um. what was it's name again? Calestal Medical."  
  
"That's a lot of info," Ed commented.  
  
"Well I'm not getting very far doing what I'm doing," Faye lamented. "I'm in some dive at the far end of Torrent, looking for this guy, and I'm thinking it'd be easier to start back there in Aruba. Just get some basics, I'll call back in a little bit. Shouldn't take long, should it?"  
  
"Nope!" Ed replied enthusiastically.  
  
"Good. Hey, any word from Spike or Jet?"  
  
"Nothing nothing from Spi-ike, but Jet's searching Lavender Park near here. Says it's the crime scene. Spoooky!"  
  
"Hm, okay. Later," Faye said, signing off.  
  
"Bye bye!"  
  
----^^^-----  
  
Faye felt the eyes of all the men in the bar. While she enjoyed attention, she was more concerned with the task at hand. After all, it entailed the collecting of bounty money. She made her way to the door, when she was stopped by a tall, brawny man with a sweat-stained grey shirt and an unpleasant odor. The man leaned down to her, as he was rather tall and grinned. It was the same everywhere she went in that area of town. She wished that there'd be some kind of accident resulting in the vacuum of space sucking up the lowlifes that thought they had a chance with her. With that thought she smiled sweetly and looked intently at the man in front of her.  
  
"Hey there, baby," she said. "I knew one of you guys would have the guts to approach me."  
  
"I overheard you're a bounty hunter," the man said. "How much money do you get for capturing my heart?"  
  
"Sure it isn't a different body part you want me to wrangle?" Faye asked, semi-seductively.  
  
"Ohhh yeah," the sweaty man said, excited.  
  
"Well, too bad," Faye commented. "You're just not worth the reward!"  
  
With that Faye lunged forward and kneed the man in the stomach, and kicked him in the face, sending him to the ground. The man grabbed his face and stomach in pain and his friends came to his aid. The other men in the bar turned from looking at her, going back to their normal business while she stood before her victim, again smiling sweetly. The man was dragged off and Faye made her exit, feeling confident and proud of her quick reflexes. She wasn't dulling.  
  
Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice, a man talking to an older woman about Gill Whitman. She peered around the corner to spot Spike asking a woman questions. The old woman, short and stout, with a sun hat on her head and a basket weave bag in hand, didn't know anything. Defeated, Spike asked for directions to Bird Park. The woman paused to think while Spike lit up a cigarette.  
  
"I think you take a right on Birmingham Street, no.. it was a left on Barberel Street, and a right on Cappard Avenue. Then you should keep going until you see the sign for Cardinal Road. Keep going and you'll come to Bird Park. hm, I heard that there's already bounty hunters there, young man."  
  
"Damn, I hate competition," Spike said. "I feel so bad about embarrassing them."  
  
The old woman stood and sort of shrugged. Spike thanked her and she turned and left. The green-haired man stood still for a while, cigarette dangling in his mouth. Then he looked up to the sky, and around to where Faye was, causing her to quickly turn back to wall.  
  
"I thought I smelled trouble around here. You can come out Faye," Spike said with a slight smile.  
  
"How'd you know, did you spot me?" Faye asked, turning the corner.  
  
"Little trade secret," Spike said. "I might share it with you sometime."  
  
"Why are you going to the wrong park?" Faye asked, "He shot his wife in Lavender Park in Aruba, and you're going to Bird Park?"  
  
"A reliable source told me he's near Bird Park," Spike answered.  
  
"Oh? How reliable are we talking, Spike?"  
  
"Heh, not too reliable, but reliable enough," Spike said with a smirk, removing the cigarette from his mouth and dropping onto the ground, stepping on it. "An old friend from a past life told me."  
  
"Great, I'm working on information and you're getting help from ghosts," Faye lamented. "Well, I suppose it's worth a shot, can't be any more time- wasting than the leads I've been getting, or should I say, lack thereof? Ed's searching the net for info."  
  
"Well then, shall we get going?"  
  
"Sure. It's a lovely day for a walk in the park."  
  
---^^^---  
  
There was a slight chill int the breeze. Jet could sense that the weather was changing from the warm day the weatherman had previously predicted to a completely different one. It was odd, since all the weather on Mars was controlled within the cities. It's like the forecasters were playing the guessing game with the weather control center. Jet shook his head and sighed, he hadn't experienced a pleasant day in a long while, and he wondered if things were nicer in Torrent.  
  
Lavender Park was established early in the construction of the downtown section of Aruba City. It was hypothesized that the park would be able to keep the area bright and lively, discouraging crime, and instead encouraging constant urban development. High class apartments were nearby, but most of the people living in the area were of moderate economic status. He walked through the section of the park closed off to every day citizens, but open to law enforcement. He wouldn't be hassled, he was with ISSP before, and had connections. Besides, he had Jun Yumizaki's permission. Save for a few detectives, the area was empty, so he doubted he'd have much trouble. In fact, he soon spotted an old friend. Many people owed Jet Black favors, because he made many friends. Even though his beat was the satellite Ganymede, you could find at least one or two people here and there that were old friends of his.  
  
"Jet! Jet Black!" he was greeted by a lean, mustached man with a tan complexion. "Hey, remember me? It's Lennis Irn!"  
  
"Lennis!" Jet said with earnest, "how's it goin'? You working this beat now, huh?"  
  
"That's right, I'm in the Homicide Division," Lennis answered. "They've got me working this Whitman homicide with a group of other guys, operating from all over the west. I've really come far from working the docks at Ganymede, haven't I?"  
  
On Ganymede, Lennis worked as a detective for the Drug Task Force Division of that satelite's ISSP branch. When he was once accused of taking drug evidence for himself, Jet stood up for him and eventually revealed who was really doing it, the head of the task force. Jet hadn't seen him since.  
  
"Heh heh, yeah," Jet responded warmly.  
  
"So, the Black Dog of Ganymede is on Mars, huh? Whatcha doin' here, were you transferred or something? Oh, that's right, I heard you quit the ISSP. What are you doing now?"  
  
"Well, I'm a bounty hunter," Jet said. "I've been working for three and a half years with this one guy, and we've got some other people too. We're on an old fishing ship, it's called the Bebop. Normally we operate right out of the main port here in the city. Right now we're looking for Whitman, too."  
  
"Bounty hunter, eh? Ah, so using connections to gain access to the crime scene, huh? Well, that's fine with me, but I doubt you'll find anything around here that'll help."  
  
Jet looked over at where the body outline was, right on both the grass and walk. There was some blood on the walk and ISSP agents were analyzing the area, combing it for clues. Jet observed them for a moment, then began searching the area as well. He carefully eyed the trees, from their top to bottom, checked their trunks. He wasn't sure what he should be looking for, but had a feeling he'd find something. Deeper into the wooded area, Jet could spot a hill nearby. A man ascended the hill, a cleaner probably, but Jet wasn't sure. From his view, Jet could make out a few features of the man. He was tall, slender and lanky with a light complexion. He crouched down to the ground and lifted open a section of it up. Jet was curious. The man began climbing in to the small door in the hill, and Jet walked toward him. At first the man didn't take notice, but then Jet stepped passed a group of birds that made a ruckus as they flew off. The man spotted Jet and quickly climbed out, taking off like the wind. Jet hesitated at first, but soon gave chase. The man ran down the hill and to the tennis courts in the park. Jet followed, waving his arms and telling the man that he just wanted to question him. By the time Jet got to the tennis courts, the man was far from them, already in the streets. Jet only managed to get to the sidewalk before there was a suddenly thump. Of course, the sound followed the man being impacted by a truck. Jet stood, motionless, as the truck stopped. The man he had been pursuing was mangled by the impact, his body twisted in such a fashion that it made Jet want to look away immediately.  
  
----^^^----  
  
"HEL-LO!" Ed greeted to Spike and Faye on Faye's visual communicator. "Edward's got info for Spike and Faye Faye!"  
  
"Really? Anything useful, Ed?" Spike asked.  
  
Spike and Faye were already en route to Bird Park. Spike was certain he wasn't the only one besides Morrison that would be looking for Gill Whitman. He didn't like other bounty hunters getting in his way. Of course, he had to make sure Faye didn't either, and she was on his team. Then another thought came to Spike's head; what would he do about Gil's daughter? She might be an obstacle, and he didn't want to put a kid in danger.  
  
"Um, uh, I dunno. you decide!" Ed said. "Okay, let's start with Gill Renold Whitman. Born April 15, 2034 in Tharsis City, right here on Mars! Let's see. blood type A, hair brown, eyes blue, shoe size--"  
  
"Something useful might come in handy Edward," Faye remarked. "Does this guy have any priors? Any connections here in Torrent? Do you have any information that we can use to catch this guy?!"  
  
"Oh ho ho! Okey dokey! Gill Whitman, wanted for first degree murder and kidnapping! Priors include assault and battery and reckless driving! Gill, Gill, gills on a fish! Swim swim, and swim---"  
  
"Edward! Stay on task!" Spike demanded.  
  
Ed frowned. "Gee," she sniffed. "Fine fine fine, funny hair. I didn't mean to do anything bad."  
  
"That's okay, Ed," Spike said with a sigh. "Please continue."  
  
"Okey dokey! Oh ho ho! It says in the file that these priors were when he was 16 and 19 respectively. Since then. he's been a model citizen!"  
  
"Really? What about those mood swings Punch on Big Shot said he had?" Faye asked.  
  
"Hm, well says here that he was taking medicine for a disorder," Edward explained. "Had outbursts, often violent. Something something stress something! He was taking medicine for the disorder, but supposedly stopped for some reason. That's what a police report says."  
  
"Hm," Spike mused. "Well, that might have been it, what made him kill his wife. Guess his disorder acted up or something. Sounds like an excuse to me, though. Edward, any reports of domestic abuse?"  
  
"Spike, who cares?" Faye said. "There's nothing she's told us that will help us actually FIND him, and we can really use that money!"  
  
"Look, if we can figure out how he's thinking, we can find him easier, right?"  
  
"Oh boy, you're starting to sound like Jet now."  
  
"No official reports of domestic abuse," Ed reported. "Nope nope, no hit hit!"  
  
"Hm, well then... anything else?"  
  
"Well, I've kinda been.. here we go!" Edward said, typing away at TOMATO again. "I've got it! Okay, records indicate sightings of Gill and Christine Whitman at 10:00 AM, 1:00 PM, and just recently at 2:23 PM! They were around the subway station on Cappard Avenue, the hot dog stand at the corner of Jackie Street, and near the pond at Bird Park!"  
  
"If this information is available, you can bet that the ISSP and other bounty hunters probably have it as well," Spike said. "We'll have to hurry, Faye."  
  
"I won't let some losers get in my way," Faye assured him.  
  
"Wait, wait! Spike, Faye Faye! Hey!" Ed shouted. "He must be around that area."  
  
"What is it, Ed?" Spike asked.  
  
"Well, Mr. Bounty Head has a rented storage space! Don't know why he has it, but he could be staying there! It's on Wilkinson Street, but that's at the far end of town."  
  
"How is that 'in the area'? We can't.." Faye began.  
  
"We'll go to the park first. Thanks Ed," Spike said. "If you get anything else, let us know."  
  
"Kay. Oh, and bring me something something! Ed wants a souvenir!"  
  
"Sure. See ya."  
  
"Heeeheeho, bye bye!"  
  
When Spike and Faye's faces disappeared from the screen, Ed laid back, and stuck her feet in the air, wiggling them. Then she mimicked as though she were riding a bicycle. Ein looked up from where he lay, and then returned it to a comfortable position. The corgi could probably get some sleep if Ed wasn't too noisy, but it seemed too much to hope for that day. She was especially hyper.  
  
"I hope it's chocolate!"  
  
---^^^----  
  
"Dad, are we leaving Mars?" Christine asked her father, as they hurried along Central Avenue. "I don't want to leave all my friends, daddy. Please don't make me leave it all behind."  
  
Gill Whitman was a wreck. He hadn't showered or shaved in days, and he was running out of clean clothing in the bags he had with him. He was hungry, he was tired. Disorientated. His daughter's pleas were expected, and he assured her they weren't leaving Mars, but if he had the chance, he would. When it began, the thought running through his head was that he had to prove his innocence, but now all his thought went toward assuring his daughter and making her feel safe, and trying not to get caught. As they walked down the street a broadcast of 'Big Shot' caught his attention in the window of an electronics store. As soon as his face appeared on the screen, Gill pulled his daughter away and they ran off. He felt like he was walking through a nightmare. He kept going, but there was no end in sight.  
  
  
  
END OF THIRD MOVEMENT 


	4. Fourth Movement

FOURTH MOVEMENT  
  
"You stupid bastard, you're cheating!" one of the old men said to the other.  
  
"I am not," another said.  
  
"I'm cheating," said the other.  
  
"I don't care about you, Carlos! This asshole here is my problem now!" the first one said pointing at the one he accused before. "The deck's not supposed to have 5 aces!"  
  
"It does in the game we're playin'," Jobim said.  
  
"What kinda game is that?!"  
  
"I remember all kinds of games," Carlos stated. "Remember that one we used to play as kids?"  
  
"Yeah, and that bastard cheated at that too!" "I'm cheating too, you know," Carlos admitted, staring off in the direction Spike and Faye approached.  
  
"God, we can't play a decent game of cards anymore!" Antonio. "You both cheat!"  
  
"Hey," Spike said, soon at Antonio's side with a smile. "Do you guys know where we can find a guy named Gill?"  
  
"I remember all kinds of guys," Carlos stated. "Antonio, remember that guy we knew when we were kids? The one with the mustauche and the cowboy hat?"  
  
"Just shut up, ya old geezer!" Antonio barked. "That's the guy from that show!"  
  
"Gill, Gill," Jobim repeated, as if he were processing a directive.  
  
"Yeah, his name's Gill Whitney," Faye added, approaching the card table. "We, uh. need to have a nice chat with him."  
  
"Isn't that the guy that's been wanderin' 'round Baker Street?" Antonio asked his friends.  
  
"Baker Street? Nah, that's the mailman," Jobim said, putting a card at the bottom of the deck and choosing another.  
  
"I remember all kinds of streets," Carlos stated. "Remember that street we got our shoes on? There was a weird guy wanderin' around."  
  
"Huh? What kind of guy?" Faye asked, wondering if it could be a lead.  
  
"Well, he's kinda funny looking, like he ain't shaved for a bit," Jobim said.  
  
"And he smelled!" Antonio said. "Far be it for me to judge, though. Oh, and a young girl was following him around. I guess it could have been his girlfriend."  
  
"Girlfiend? Nah, more like his daughter."  
  
"I remember all kinds of daughters," Carlos stated.  
  
"No you don't, you old fool, you never were married!" Antonio yelped.  
  
"Great, this is real helpful," Faye told Spike. "Come on, these old guys are out of it, we should just keep looking around the park like those other bounty hunters. Maybe we'll be lucky and find him and the kid."  
  
"Yeah, we're not going to get much information here," Spike admitted, turning from the old men as they continued to chatter and argue.  
  
The park was crawling with bounty hunters that day. It seemed the tip Morrison had given Spike wasn't very exclusive. It was ridiculous. Bounty hunters looking high and low for Gill and Christine Whitman, and none of them had any logic to ask the people around the area. Spike figured that most of them were out-of-towners, like himself (he was a perpetual one), and too arrogant or confident. However, he did spot a few faces he had seen before, and wondered if they had taking the same initiative. Still, asking was getting him much information. So far they questioned a teenage boy and his girlfriend, a married couple on a picnic with their infant, and now these old men. Each seemed less helpful than the last. Spike was beginning to question Morrion's credibility. And Faye was, too.  
  
"Sure that friend of yours had any clue what he was taling about?" Faye asked, pushing some hair from her face. "I don't want to have to stand around all day while that guy's actually catching them."  
  
"Well it seems that Gill spotted some of us and decided to head off. He might not even be in town, anymore." Spike reasoned.  
  
If she hadn't been standing where she was, it would have been hard to make out anything. At first she just glanced over at the trees to zone out. She didn't want to hear Spike's excuses. The bounty was a good sized one, and she was thinking of how she'd spend her portion of it, if and when they caught up with Gill Whitman. Often times it helped motivate her, having things in mind that she wanted to spend the money on, but most of the time that ended in disappointment. They certainly tried their best, but always ended up cheated in the end. Bounty heads caught by police, accidently killed, caught by other bounty hunters, or they just let them go out of their own miserably sympathetic feelings. It all didn't add up to living the good life, and barely a decent one. Still, if she hadn't been staring in that direction, Faye wouldn't have caught a glimpse of a man within the wooded area. A small silloute stood behind him. At first she shrugged them off. Just bounty hunters, probably.  
  
Something set off a switch in her head, though, as soon as she heard a small cry from the trees. The small silloute had fallen to the ground, a large branch having broken under its feet. The man helped that silloute to its feet, and upon further inspection, Faye saw it was a girl. She walked in the direction of the area, while Spike was staring at her with a blank face, a cigarette in his mouth. She began to mouth something to Spike, but mid-way it appeared the man spotted her. She ran down a slope to the trees as the man and the child took off, and by this time Spike was well on his way behind her.  
  
"Faye, did you spot him?" Spike said, trying not to let the other bounty hunters hear him. Of course, this meant that neither could Faye.  
  
"Hey!" Faye finally yelled to the man in the trees, reaching for the gun she had in a small, almost seductive holster. "Stop right there! Don't make this difficult!"  
  
"Shit, Faye," Spike said with a groan. The others all turned.  
  
"Hey, does that woman see something?" a short stubby one wondered, pointing at Faye. He had looked around the entire east side of the park that day, one of the first bounty hunters to arrive. He had received a tip on his computer from an anyonymous source. When it appeared to be a pretty popular tip, he gave up looking all together, figuring it was a ruse.  
  
Spike drew his gun, and ran toward the woods, where Faye had already entered and gave chance. As soon as he hit the trees, he knew for sure she had seen them, because she was still shouting for them to stop. Why had they stayed at the park? It was a careless move. With finesse he dodged branches and jumped over large rocks and logs. He thought he should call out to Faye, but it was hopeless. She wasn't going to stop any time soon. He was very confident with his movements and did them as though it were natural, hopping around the forest. Spotting a large tree blocking his path, he quickly lept up to one of the branches, and from there into a clearing. Where the hell was Faye?  
  
And then he felt a change in the wind near him, and something clicked. Spike turned, and was met with an large force, sending his head back and the rest following. As he fell to the ground, his mind wandered to the placement of his gun, which had begun to fall apart from him. When he reached the ground, Spike quickly took the gun in his hand and aimed up. A man in a dark coat with sunglasses and a sniper rifle stood above him. Spike felt his head for blood, fearing the worse, but the man had only hit him with the other end of the gun.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Spike asked, his gun aimed at the man as he stared down the small barrel of the sniper rifle.  
  
"Just your friendly park ranger," the man grumbled.  
  
"Is that so?" Spike kicked up his feet and hit the rifle. The man pulled back to keep it in his hands, and Spike jumped to his feet and lunged at him. The sunglassed man smelled like the sewer and the smell motivated Spike to push him away, after disarming him. The man took out a back-up, a revolver that hit the ground almost as fast as the man drew it. A loud roaring shot had gone off just beforehand, and the man hit the ground with a thud. Spike stood scratching his head.  
  
Then he felt the coldness of a gun on his head. His eyes wandered to behind him and caught a faint smirk. Then he smiled and turned around, aiming his weapon at Morrison Tinwheel. The man grinned and put his arm down, the gun then pointing at the ground. After exchanging greetings, Morrison took a look at the man he had shot. Spike watched carefully as Morrison touched the corpse only with his boot, turning it over.  
  
"Yep, great shot, right between the eyes," Morrison bragged. "Talk about your feirce competitors."  
  
"That was no bounty hunter," Spike said.  
  
"Maybe he wasn't," Morrison admitted. "Not that it matters, the guy's dead, now. So, I spotted your friend a few minutes ago, she was chasing Gill and his daughter."  
  
"Why didn't you chase as well?" Spike wondered.  
  
"I already know where they're going," Morrison replied. "It's no problem. I was sure you were here too and wanted to talk to you."  
  
"This is serious," Spike said. And his face was cold. "Something is going on here."  
  
"Maybe its just a coincidence. There are a lot of crazies in the world, Spike," Morrison said.  
  
"Yeah," Spike agreed. "There sure are."  
  
---^^^----  
  
Faye darted down the alleyway, pushing past the narrow spaces left between the enormous dumpsters. She could see the man and the girl clearly across the street. She let out a quiet curse, as she made her way to through the alley. She should have already gotten them. A few yards back, they had stopped when Christine tripped and fell. When Gill chided her, she refused to move. Gill yelled at his daughter while Faye caught up, but then a jogger slammed into her. Now she was finally catching up again, and there was traffic in the way. Not likely to use the cars as stepping stones like Spike would, Faye waited at the crosswalk. It was sort of absurd, but Faye felt tired.  
  
"Come on," she said quietly. "Just give me a break this one time."  
  
She noticed a change in the weather. It had become increasingly humid and her clothes began to stick to her. This made her fiddle with them. She took notice of the fact that Gill and Christine hadn't ran from where they were on the other side. What were they doing? She was nearby, and they were right there! Still there, when she'd be there soon! Faye shook her head. They were mocking her, weren't they? She clenched her teeth. Now they were approaching a street vendor. This was going to cause her to really throw down on the man when she caught up, regardless of the fact his daughter was with him. She hated such arrogant behavior. Then, upon further inspection, it seemed that they hadn't noticed her yet. The girl was eager to get food, and Gill told her to hurry up. She complained that she always had to hurry, and that her mom never made her hurry. Gill sighed and stood by. Still, he hadn't noticed Faye. She smirked. Soon Gill grew impatient and took his daughter by her hand, pulling her along. Their pace quickened as they turned the corner, and were soon out of Faye's sight. The "WALK" flashed and Faye ran across, but collapsed when she made it to the sidewalk. She had spent all her energy. She wished that she were on the Bebop, taking a nice bath. The vendor helped her to her feet and she looked around. Finally she resigned the chase and told the man she'd take a hot dog and a soda. She stared at the sky, and frowned.  
  
Where the hell is that Spike? Faye thought. He was supposed to be behind me!  
  
The sun flashed across her face and she looked a way. By then the short street vendor reach out with his hands, ready to hand Faye her food and drink. It cost exactly one woolong, and Faye was glad she still afford something. She cursed Spike again as she took the hot dog in her hand and its smell was vaccumed into her nose. She bit down on it and began to chew, careful not to analyze what a vendor dog was made of. Perhaps it was a 'dirty water dog', but she didn't care, because it tasted good to her, and the soda was the sweetest she had ever tasted. Her mind wandered again to the thought of a relaxing bubble bath, and she sighed.  
  
---^^^---  
  
"So, you're Jet's partner?"  
  
It was something Spike was used to hearing. Yes, they had done a check on this Spike Spiegel character. A bounty hunter? Where does he operate out of? Does he work alone? If not, who does he work with? Jet Black? Jet Black. Jet had a lot of friends, especially in ISSP, and hearing the inevitable question didn't surprise Spike. He smiled and nodded at the detective questioning him. The tall lanky man called over to another detective, who left the people he was questioning. The lanky detective told this detective that Spike was Jet's partner. This detective - Jun Yumizaki - was eager to ask Spike some questions.  
  
"So, Jet's partner," Jun stated, changing the usual question to the inevitable realization. "I talked to him this morning."  
  
"Oh," Spike said with a shrug, lighting a cigarette. "So you're that contact he met with."  
  
"Spike Spiegel, age twenty seven," the tall lanky detective began. "Bounty hunter, practices Jeet Kun Do stule of martial arts. Operates out of the Bebop, and old fishing ship from Ganymede. Listed partners are a Mr. Jet Black and a Miss---"  
  
"Miss Trouble," Spike cracked. "Miss Obnoxious, Miss--- damn, she's probably still chasing after that bounty head."  
  
"That's why we came here," Jun explained. "We received a tip on the net, but I guess all the bounty hunters did too. Our hackers are still trying to track the tip."  
  
"We weren't here more than a minute before we heard gunfire," the other detective recalled. "You got a lot of enemies?"  
  
"Hm," Spike thought. "Maybe, I'm not exactly Saint Nick."  
  
"This guy you shot---"  
  
"I didn't shoot him," Spike corrected, pointing to Morrison, who leaned on a nearby tree.  
  
"Well, the guy Mr. Tinwheel shot, the one who attacked you ---"  
  
"I could've taken him," Spike insisted, taking a drag.  
  
"Yes, well nevertheless," the annoyed tall detective continued. "The man Mr. Tinwheel shot wasn't your run-of-the-mill thug. His name's Eastman. Professional Assassin. We've been looking for him for years, but he's like a shadow in the dark; difficult to see and impossible to catch."  
  
"Guess the shadow's dissapated," Spike joked. "How much is his bounty?"  
  
"Well, it was fourty one million woolongs," Jun replied. "I mean, now he's worth nothing to you."  
  
It was true. That's the way things were in the ISSP free bounty system. A "cowboy" had to bring in the bounty head alive, or they wouldn't be worth a thing. The reason was supposedly to prevent bounty hunters from becoming too violent. Spike shrugged and took another drag. 41 million woolongs was much larger than the bounty on Gill Whitman. Luck simply wasn't on Spike's side when it came to bounty chasing. Morrison heard the news and cursed, but shrugged it off after a few moments and left the shade of the tree to talk to Spike.  
  
"Hey, Spike!" Morrison said. "I'm gonna head out now. Nothing to do around here. I'm tired of answering questions and waiting around while others are out there tracking Whitman. I wouldn't want that partner of yours grabbing up my bounty money, those 18 million woolongs are mine."  
  
"Think they're gonna let you leave so soon?" Spike wondered. "You just shot a guy dead."  
  
"Whatever." Morrison shrugged, and turned to leave. "A shame I couldn't collect that 41 million, but I'd better let it go. You too, don't even mention it to your partners. See ya around."  
  
"Mister Tinwheel," Jun began. "We really need you to stay here so we can--- "  
  
"Shut up already," Morrison said with a sneer, as he walked off. "I'm outta here."  
  
Spike let out a small laugh as he took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground to stomp it out. Morrison would be back on track soon, but Spike wished he had asked about the tip from the net. Where on the net had Morrison found it? Spike figured that it didn't really matter, but once he was back on the Bebop, he'd have Ed track it anyway. Spike fiddled with his collar. It was humid.  
  
END OF FOURTH MOVEMENT 


End file.
